


The Science of Romance

by Zedoktor



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 18:12:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12463146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zedoktor/pseuds/Zedoktor
Summary: When Medic's latest scientific investigation delves into romance and sex, Heavy has to deal with becoming his unwilling subject/assistant. But this time Medic might have gotten in over his head, as he finds out just how difficult it is to quantify attraction and lust - and it turns out he's not as objective as he thinks he is.





	1. Hypothesis

Medic stared around his room, surveying his work with a critical eye and a clipboard in one hand. Archimedes and the other doves had been shooed into the infirmary for the night. His desk was cleared away, and all his usual notes and books were tidied into boxes. He had managed to find a couple of candles, and they were placed strategically and precisely on various surfaces to project a warm yet slightly dim light. His bed was neatly made for once. There was a table set up in the center of the floor, with two folding chairs on either side and a nice meal laid out and ready. He lamented the fact that he could not get any hot food, but needs must in this environment. The sandwiches would have to do. 

He nodded primly to himself, and ticked off a series of items on his list. Everything was ready for the experiment, or as ready as he could make them. What other supplies he needed had been tucked into the drawer in his bedside locker.   
  
Medic checked his watch, and tapped the final entry on his list – a single line that simply read ‘Tauglich Freund’.   
  


* * *

Heavy never could tell what Medic was thinking. The man seemed to live in his head most of the time, unless he was in battle. In a fight, he was enthusiastic to a fault, and seemed to take a personal delight in killing (or pushing Heavy to kill) whoever his counterpart on the opposing team was healing. 

'Insane’ was too benign a word. The doctor had gone so completely around the bend that it was likely he would be committed to an asylum if the powers that be ever noticed. Totally unafraid of anything; as inclined to experiment on himself as the rest of the team; had a remarkable tendency to view other people as potential test subjects; was utterly bewildered that people could have interests other than science. And in spite of it all, Heavy still liked him. Disliking him would be like kicking a deranged puppy. 

The summons had been delivered just before dinner. Medic apparently wanted him for an experiment, the nature of which could not be divulged because 'knowing would skew the results’. He had managed to get it out of him that there would be no dissection or drugs involved. Medic wouldn’t lie, of course. Lying about science was as alien to him as baseball. There was always the Medigun, if he got hurt, or Respawn, if Medic went too far, but he wouldn’t kill the doctor unless he really had to. 

He knocked politely at Medic’s door, and let himself in. By now, Heavy had learned that waiting for a response outside was a waste of time. 

“Ah! Heavy! Good, good, good, you are here on time.” Medic had… redecorated… since Heavy had been here last. He looked around at the candles and the table in some puzzlement as the doctor pulled him inside and shut the door. He was carrying a clipboard for some reason, and made a note on it before turning to Heavy with a beaming smile. 

“What experiment is this?” he asked curiously, eyeing the sandwiches and the rather bizarre placement of the candles. That smile was slightly worrying. 

“Sit, sit – ve have much to do, ja?” Medic guided him over to the table and pushed him into a seat. “I am afraid zat I still cannot tell you ze details, or it may affect ze results. Zis must be done in ze most accurate mezzod possible,” he said in a vaguely lecture-ish tone. He sat across from Heavy and made another note on the clipboard, then suddenly stood up again and looked around frantically. 

“Ach, nein, I am getting ahead of myself. I forgot ze vine! Ein moment, bitte.” The clipboard was tossed onto the desk, and Medic pulled a bottle and a pair of tumbler glasses from the trunk at the end of his bed. He set all three on the table, and unscrewed the cap. Heavy watched in somewhat horrified fascination as he poured something that smelled more like strong whiskey into each glass, and placed each in front of them. 

“That is not wine, Doktor,” he said hesitantly. 

Medic waved the question away in irritation. “It is ze nearest equivalent I could find on zis base. I believe it vill serve ze same purpose.” 

“What purpose?” 

“Vell, it has alcohol in it. I understand zat ze removal of inhibitions is a necessary part of – but zat is not important right now.” He pointed at the sandwich. “Eat, eat. Ze eating is also essential as a common sociological bonding element.” 

This was already past the point of being weird. To the best of Heavy’s knowledge, Medic had never required that his test subjects be drunk before. And the candles were more than a little bizarre. The whole situation seemed to be a bad attempt at a romantic evening, if anything, but the effect was spoiled by Medic making notes on his clipboard and chattering about socio… something something. 

Well. There were no needles, and no strange humming machinery for once. And a free sandwich was a free sandwich. For all Heavy knew, Medic wanted to test the alcohol tolerance of someone who had just had a light meal. He smiled a little at that. He wasn’t one to brag, but if it came down to a drinking contest between them, it wouldn’t be him who passed out first. 

They tucked in. Heavy hadn’t taken more than a few bites before Medic wiped the crumbs off his hands and checked his notes again. 

“Right zhen,” he began, “Tell me about your day.” 

Heavy paused, and swallowed a mouthful. “What you mean? You know what we do today. Kill other team, take intelligence. You were there, Doktor.” 

Medic held up one finger as if to disagree, then looked thoughtful. “Hrm. Vell, ja, zat is a good point. Ze scenario does assume zat ze people in qvestion are not in close daily contact. I vill have to make adjustments…” He murmured under his breath, and scribbled a longer note on the clipboard. 

Heavy pulled the board out of his hands, and scanned it briefly while Medic protested and tried to take it back. It was no good; the list was in German, and he had no grasp of the language at all. He handed it over reluctantly, still confused, and pushed the plate with the remains of the sandwich away. 

“Doktor, what is this experiment? You acting very strange.” 

Medic shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant but failing, mostly due to the way he held the clipboard against himself jealously. “Science is not alvays nice and familiar, you know.” 

Heavy sighed in annoyance. “Da, I am knowing this. Maybe… put clipboard away, please? You can write up notes later.” He could at least try to have a normal conversation – or as normal as Medic was capable of – if he wouldn’t give a straight answer on what exactly he was doing. 

The doctor put it on the desk reluctantly. “Alright, alright, I have it all memorized anyvay. And it might be better if I am not distracted.” He leaned on the table, and rested his chin on his hands. “Ve must talk about somezing related to eizzer our vork or our hobbies in a vay zat encourages furzer discussion and common empazhy.” 

…What, Heavy thought. This was odd, even for Medic, but he was sitting there and waiting intently for Heavy to say something. He cast about for some appropriate topic. “I have… new boolets for Sascha,” he managed. “Sent by headquarters to test for other teams. They very expensive, but think they do more -” 

He stopped abruptly, then nearly jumped out of his seat in surprise when he felt something trailing up the inside of his leg. He looked down in shock, and realized that it was Medic’s foot. 

He was completely unnerved by this. Heavy stood up quickly and backed away. That was not normal, not for a man who, as far as he knew, was either straight or had no interest in sex at all. Medic stood up as well, looking rather puzzled. “Vhere are you going? Ve are not done here yet.” 

“Doktor, what are you doing?!” he asked desperately. “This is not experiment! There is something wrong with you, if you act like this!” 

Medic was instantly offended. “Of course zis is an experiment! Vhy else vould I go to all zis trouble? Come back and sit down, bitte.” 

Heavy folded his arms. There were limits to his patience. “Tell me what is this, or I go.” 

“Nein, I cannot do zat, it vill skew ze -” 

“Nyet!” He cut him off brusquely. “You have choice – tell me what is, and I stay and you have experiment, or not tell me, and I go and you not have at all.” 

Medic fidgeted, clearly torn between wanting to do science and getting a valid test result. He finally threw up his hands in defeat. “Alright. A flawed experiment is better zhan none. Sit down zhen.” 

They both returned to their seats, although Heavy was somewhat wary and carefully kept his knees together. Medic clasped his hands together and stared at him over his glasses in a way that reminded Heavy of his college professors. 

“Are you avare of ze discussion I had vis Sniper last veek?” 

“Da, was much shouting. Do not know why.” 

Medic sniffed. “Ze bushman zinks zat his subjective experience is an acceptable substitute for proper scientific enquiry. He is of ze opinion zat intercourse vis a man is far superior to zat vis a voman – I disagree, of course, because ze gender of vun’s partner should have no effect on ze biological functions involved, assuming vun is villing to engage in ze act vis eizzer. Sniper, of course vill not listen, even zhough I pointed out zat, as a homosexual, he is clearly biased.” 

Heavy listened to all this, not understanding all the words but getting the jist of it anyway. “What does this have to do with me?” he asked, feeling just a little bewildered. 

Medic looked at him like he was a child in need of an explanation as to why the sky was blue. “In order to prove my hypothesis to ze Australian, I must have an empirical comparison betveen intercourse vis a man and vis a voman. As I already have data concerning ze latter, I must now test ze former to complete my analysis. To zat end, I am seducing you.” 

Heavy stared, not quite believing anything of what he could comprehend. “You… want to sleep with me?” 

“Nein, I vant to have sex viz you. How vould I get any data just by sleeping viz you?” Medic said irritably. “Try to keep up, bitte, I hate repeating myself.” 

“Why me?” 

Medic shrugged. “Your medical records indicate zat you are bisexual. Zere are no ozzers on ze base who are attracted to men, except for Sniper, and he is already biased, as I said.” 

He felt his stomach drop. Heavy had honestly believed that that particular bit of personal information had been well hidden. He certainly hadn’t told anyone when he joined up. “And you did not just ask me?” he said weakly. 

“I vished to recreate ze real vorld conditions as closely as possible, in order to gain as accurate a result as possible. Alzhough zat is probably not going to happen, now…” He frowned, thinking, then shrugged again. “Vell, I can get a baseline result at least if ve just have sex. Take your clothes off, and ve can get started.” 

He stood up, and looked at Heavy expectantly. Heavy simply couldn’t believe this. Medic was mad if he thought that he would just hop into bed with any man who ordered him to, especially one that he could pick up and break in half if need be. “Nyet, I cannot believe you thought this would work,” he said, and stood up as well. “What if I do not want to?” 

That stumped him. Medic looked at the floor, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I… hm. I did not consider zat at all. It seemed – ah! I zink I know vhat you mean. Vell, zat is easy to fix at least!” 

He loosened his tie, then swiftly unbuttoned his coat and shirt. By the time he had stripped to the waist and was undoing his belt, Heavy had recovered and grabbed his hands in panic. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” 

“Vhat? You are vorried I am not attractive, ja? I can assure you, running around ze battlefield keeps me very fit, and I am not zat much older -” 

If he had hair, he would have started to tear it out by now. “That is not what I meant!” Heavy said, trying and failing to avoid the sight of his teammate. He was careful out of habit, by this stage, and he showered alone to keep away from just this kind of view. Medic wasn’t lying. Life as a mercenary had kept him well toned, and Heavy’s self-imposed celibacy was not helping. But this was still a stupid idea on its face; Medic was unhinged, even if he was nice to look at. Not that he wasn’t tempted, of course – there was only so long a man could last with only his hand for company – but he made a point of not sleeping with his teammates or the clinically insane. 

“Look,” Heavy said kindly, “I am flattered, but Doktor, you do not like men. It, ah, will not work for you. It cannot unless you are also bisexual. This is a question you cannot answer.” 

“Nein! Zis is ze pursuit of science!” Medic held up one finger indignantly. “Ve cannot shy avay from our research, no matter vhere it takes us – and I vill NOT be beaten on a qvestion of science by a filzy bushman! Besides,” he sniffed somewhat self-importantly, and folded his arms, “I vill not heal you in battle until you cooperate.” 

Heavy glared at him. This was ridiculous. The doctor would be true to his word, though, even if they lost every battle from now until the end of their contracts. When it came to science, he was stubborn as hell, and the others would find out why he refused to heal Heavy. That would open another can of worms that he really didn’t want to get into. 

He weighed his options, came to the obvious conclusion, and sighed in frustration. “You are crazy, Doktor… Okay. But you must promise to not tell anyone who you do this with. You tell, and I never help you with experiment again.” 

Medic nodded, once again looking rather puzzled. “Ja, of course. Ze identity of ze test subjects is commonly hidden to avoid -” 

“Fine. As long as you not tell,” he said irritably. All the science talk was getting on his nerves. Heavy sat on the bed so he could pull off his boots, and contemplated a night of what would probably be the most unsatisfying and awkward sex he had ever experienced. Medic had never once shown any interest in men, or women for that matter, and it was likely that he was clueless about how to please a lover. The question also remained of what exactly he expected them to do. 'Have sex’ covered everything from handjobs up to full intercourse. 

Medic sat beside him and shucked off his own boots. He folded his glasses neatly and left them on the bedside table, and Heavy heard him humming approvingly as he pulled off his T-shirt. “Alright. What you want to do first?” he asked, still feeling very ambivalent about the whole thing. 

“I believe zere is a common mezzod to zis, ja? Sit up against ze vall, bitte.” Heavy did as he was ordered, and Medic climbed rather clumsily into his lap. He straddled him, wiggling around a little to get comfortable, and leaned into his chest. “Good, good. Right, zhen.” 

That was the only warning he got before Medic gripped the sides of his head and kissed him. It was slightly manic, quite unskilled, and very enthusiastic. It startled him, and it took a few seconds before he recovered and slipped his arms around his shoulders. There was no tenderness, no initial foray to test the waters, as it were. The doctor did nothing by halves, and he shoved his tongue into Heavy’s mouth without hesitation. 

The feeling of another warm, willing body against his was hard to ignore, and he couldn’t deny that it made a surge of heat settle in his gut. He ran his hands up and down Medic’s back, liking the sensation of muscle flexing under skin. Yes, he was a little bit older than Heavy usually preferred, but he was physically acceptable at least. 

And yet, there was no real reaction to the touches, no real lust in his kiss. Heavy wanted sex, yes, but he couldn’t enjoy it unless his partner wanted it too. As far as he could tell, Medic was treating this as a mechanical act – clinical, emotionless, and scientific. 

He pushed him away for a second to get some air. “When was last time you do this with a woman?” he asked, before Medic could attack his lips again. 

“I do not see how it is relevant, but…” He cast about, thinking. “Eight years ago, I zink. Before I vas divorced.” 

Heavy stared at him in utter disbelief. “When did you get divorce?” he asked in wonder. 

“Six years ago. She said I vas not paying her enough attention, vhatever zat means.” He looked at him impatiently. “It is not important. Back to business.” 

He made to resume his assault, but Heavy stopped him again. “It is important! You, ah…” He hesitated to say 'you are as mad as a box of frogs and I’m surprised your wife didn’t leave you sooner’, and not only because he wasn’t sure of the English translation. “You have not much practice. Very obvious that you have never been with a man.” 

Medic snorted in annoyance. “Ze whole point of zis exercise is a comparison, Heavy. If I had sex vis a man before, I vould not need to have sex vis you now because I vould have ze data already.” He eyed him critically for a moment, then shrugged. “If zere is somezing ve should be doing differently, please say so.” 

Heavy thought for a moment. He honestly wasn’t sure what to suggest. Being with a man who was willing but obviously not aroused was outside the realm of his experience. Perhaps if he framed it correctly… “Doktor, you need to enjoy this. Sex feels good, da? You will not have proper data unless you feel good too.” He paused again, trying to work out a way to ask the question delicately. “What do you like to do in bed?” 

“I like to sleep, of course. Zat is vhat beds are for – oh, you mean during sex?” 

He winced. “Da, I mean during sex.” 

Medic looked thoughtful. “Hm. I do not know, really. It has been a long time, after all. Does it matter?” 

Heavy swore under his breath in Russian. To hell with this. He’d just do it – if he could – and leave and never, ever speak of it again. If Medic even suggested something like this in another experiment, he’d run for the hills. There were limits to his patience and to the lengths he was willing to go to keep his healer happy. 

“Do you have stuff for sex in butt?” he asked bluntly. He’d had enough of trying to be polite about it. 

Medic brightened up considerably. “Ja, of course!” He leaned over and pulled a tube of lube out of the drawer in his bedside locker, which was quickly followed, to Heavy’s rising horror, by a butt plug and a set of anal beads. “Now, I am aware zat you need to be prepared using fingers before trying anyzing -” 

“Nyet, you need to be prepared. I am not on bottom.” He snatched the tube out of his hand and tossed the toys onto the floor. “Also not using them. Take off pants and we do this.” 

“You do realize zat I must have an accurate comparison between ze vaginal canal and ze rectum, ja?” Medic said, looking faintly annoyed again. 

“I am expert here, not you,” he replied with some feeling. “You do what I say. Take off pants and lie down.” 

He grumbled, but complied. Heavy tossed the last of his own clothing onto the floor with his T-shirt. Medic lay back on the bed, propped up on his elbows, and watched as his teammate nudged his knees apart. “I suppose I vill have to arrange anozzer experiment to test ze alternative positions,” he said petulantly. 

With someone other than me, Heavy thought. He slicked up his fingers and started with one – Medic was very tight, having never done this before. He didn’t want to hurt him too much, even if the Medigun was available. There was still a surprising lack of a reaction other than a hint of uncomfortable squirming; the doctor didn’t complain, and he was clearly still willing. Heavy’s cock was not paying attention to the absurdity of the situation, and twitched in anticipation. 

“I understand zat zis is a part of ze experience, but I am sure it is unnecessa-aahhngggghh!” Medic suddenly went rigid, his usual business-like tone fading into a strangled groan. Heavy looked up curiously. His eyes and mouth were wide open in shock, and his body had gone from moving easily, to tense, to trembling in a matter of seconds. 

Heavy raised an eyebrow, and twisted his fingers again in just the right way. Medic went cross-eyed, gave a quiet ‘guh’, and fell back onto the bed with a thump. His hips bucked, his feet kicked uselessly against the blankets, and the only sounds from his throat were sharp gasps for breath. 

It seemed that the doctor was not as detached as he appeared to be. 

Well, he did have something of a talent for this kind of thing. It was one of the advantages of having very big hands. Heavy’s smile grew as he continued to work his fingers in and out, and Medic swiftly began to whimper and clutch at anything within reach. He took his time, stretching and scissoring as gently as he could. When he added a third finger, the doctor’s back arched up so far it could break, and his legs shook violently. 

Now this was what he wanted to see – a man laid out in front of him and so out of his mind with pleasure that he couldn’t speak. Heavy leaned down and gently kissed the head of his now-throbbing erection, and Medic’s whole body seemed to convulse at the touch. He drifted upwards, brushing his lips against his stomach, his heaving chest, his neck. Medic’s eyes were tightly shut, and color had blossomed across his cheeks. His hands were gripping the sheets so hard that his knuckles were white. 

“What are you thinking about now?” he whispered into his ear. There was no response save for a quiet moan. Heavy grinned. This might actually turn into a good night after all. 

He pulled his fingers out and got a little more lube. Medic writhed at the sudden withdrawal, but Heavy had no intention of letting him go cold now that he had him all hot and bothered. He positioned himself carefully, lifted his hips up a little to get the angle right, and slowly pushed in. 

Medic cried out and grabbed his shoulders. He was so tight, to the point where it was painful for both of them. Heavy breathed hard, and rubbed the doctor’s side. “Relax… it will stop hurting. Always hurts first time.” He settled on top of him, supporting himself on his elbows, and waited for the panicked gasps to ease up. It got easier after a while, though the trembling didn’t quite stop. 

He began to move, and Medic cried out again with every thrust even as he started to move with him. He finally looked up at Heavy, his eyes full of shock and confusion and overpowering desire. This time, when their lips crashed together, it was desperate and frantic and real, in every sense of the word. He could probably last a while, if he tried to hold back a little, but in truth, he didn’t want to. Medic had asked for sex, and getting it hard and fast was probably the most natural way. 

His groin clenched, the heat surged, and a tingling rush of endorphins flooded his mind. Not the best he’d ever had, but still sweet, satisfying, and very welcome after such a long drought. The pleasure flowed through his veins and out into Medic, leaving a familiar lethargic warmth that promised he would have no trouble sleeping tonight. Heavy gave a few powerful last thrusts, hoping that would finish the doctor off as well and save him the trouble of a handjob. 

It did, rather spectacularly. Medic wailed as if he were in agony, his arms and legs locked around Heavy and his body as taut as a bowstring. He clawed at his back and shoulders, trying to grasp anything that would give him leverage to buck even harder. The orgasm left him weak and almost catatonic, his eyes rolled back in his head, with a sticky mess all over his stomach. 

Heavy hummed to himself, enjoying the aftermath. He managed to snag Medic’s underwear from the floor and used it to clean them both up, reasoning that Medic had many more nearby if he wanted a clean pair. The doctor was close to unconscious, which worried him a little. He wasn’t that good, after all; it could only be because he hadn’t been laid in eight years. Heavy shook his head at the thought. The man was certifiably nuts. 

He lay down beside him and began to rub Medic’s stomach. Still, he wasn’t all that bad, considering it had been his first time. Heavy had certainly had worse – or, he was feeling rather more generous now that he’d had a proper screw. He moved his hand up to Medic’s chest, stroking him gently, sensing the pounding heart beat under his fingertips. 

“Doktor,” he said quietly, “Doktor, are you okay?” 

A brief groan, and Medic turned towards him. His mouth opened and closed as if he were trying to form words. Eventually, he managed to say something in slightly garbled German. Heavy just smiled, and waited for him to fully recover. 

“…I… it vas…” he whispered, his eyes hazy and half-lidded. “It… gut… very good. Ja.” He lifted one shaky arm and let his fingers trail over Heavy’s lips and chin, an expression of blissed-out wonder on his face. 

It was abruptly replaced with horror, and he sat up and grabbed his head. “Oh nein, nein, NEIN! Zis is TERRIBLE!” He sprang rather unsteadily out of bed and began to pace around the room, swearing in several different languages and kicking their clothes about as Heavy stared at him in surprise. 

“What? What is wrong?” 

He turned and shook one fist at Heavy in anger. “Do you realize vhat zis means?! Sniper vas RIGHT!” he shouted. “Ze bushman vas right, and I vas wrong! I vill not be able to look him in ze eye, knowing zat he beat me! Vhat am I going to do?!” 

Heavy listened to him, then started to chuckle. It quickly developed into hearty laughter as the utter ridiculousness of it all struck home. It was just – no, it was simply too funny. 

Medic did not take this very well. “Zis is serious!” he said sternly. “I cannot believe you vould laugh at it. Science is not comedy, Heavy, ve must treat it vis ze utmost respect!” 

“Da, I know. I am sorry.” He wiped away a tear, not feeling in the least bit apologetic. “Come here, sit.” 

Medic slumped on the bed dejectedly. “I do not know how I could be so wrong,” he said, mostly to himself. “It makes no logical sense at all.” 

Heavy slipped one arm around him, and stroked his hip with his thumb. “Mm-mhm,” he murmured in agreement into his ear. He was still flush with the post-sex glow, and he wanted some cuddling. 

Medic turned around awkwardly to look at him. “Are you listening to me? I must vork out vhere ze hypothesis is incorrect, and try to formulate a new possible explanation for ze difference in levels of pleasure.” 

“Oh, da, I am listening,” he said absently. “Sit here, can talk better.” He seemed dubious at first, but Heavy eventually pulled him back into his lap and began to nuzzle and kiss his neck. 

Medic’s hands seemed to move of their own accord, running up his chest as if to push him away but not quite able to do it. “I vill… I vill have to look at all ze variables again, and I need a larger sample size…” Words seemed to fail him when Heavy gently nipped at his ear. His hands travelled further, winding around his neck and resting on his shoulders. “You feel good,” he suddenly blurted out. 

Heavy hummed in response. “Maybe tell me more about that, hm? You can talk about science later. I promise I listen then.”


	2. Psychology

They had been involved, for the want of a better term, for almost two weeks. Two very enjoyable weeks, Heavy had to admit; two weeks of damn near constant sex that he certainly hadn’t been expecting. Despite his initial reservations, it had all turned out rather swimmingly.   
  
It was like seeing a teenager discover their own libido for the first time. But Medic was still completely insane, and the sudden revelation that sex was actually fun hadn’t made him any less insane, so the usual teenage awkwardness had been replaced with seemingly endless enthusiasm for trying just about anything Heavy cared to suggest.   
  
He strolled along to Medic’s room, as he did every night now as soon as he had eaten dinner and put Sascha to bed. He debated what they could do; perhaps another blowjob, seeing as Medic had almost passed out from the first one. He smiled to himself. That reaction had done wonders for his ego.   
  
He knocked, and let himself in. Medic was sitting at his desk, scribbling at some report. He waved distractedly, and continued writing. Heavy locked the door behind him and leaned on it, waiting for the doctor to be ready for him.   
  
Finally he threw the pen down, stood up with a snort of annoyance, and paced around the room in a fit of frustration. “Zis is getting ridiculous!” he said. “I cannot vork anymore, my mind vill not cooperate! How do people deal viz zis insanity?!”   
  
Heavy watched him for a moment, briefly wondering what exactly had him so riled up this time. It couldn’t be Pyro’s burnt toast again; Heavy made sure that he got to the toaster in the morning before the firebug could carbonize all the bread, and he made enough proper toast for them both. The best thing to do was stay quiet and wait for the inevitable explanation.   
  
Medic stopped and started, gestured wildly, began to speak and then halted when he couldn’t find the words. Eventually, he stood in front of Heavy and threw his hands up. “How do you not zink about it?!” he pleaded. “I cannot concentrate for longer zhan an hour or two! I cannot even – zis experiment vas supposed to be done two days ago! And ze results! I have not even begun to examine zhem!”   
  
Heavy didn’t understand. Still, he had swiftly learned how to deal with Medic, even at his most incomprehensible. He reached out and snagged him around the waist, and pulled him into his arms. With the doctor pressed against him, he kissed the side of his head and spoke soothingly. “Slow down. Start at start and tell me what is problem. Cannot be serious.”   
  
“Zhat is easy for you to say,” Medic said a little breathlessly. Heavy had found that he was exceptionally sensitive around his neck and ears, and just a little affection in the right place was enough to turn him to jelly. He took the opportunity to brush his lips across the edge of his jaw, and he was rewarded with Medic relaxing against him with a soft, crooning sigh.   
  
“So… what is problem?” he asked, in between trailing kisses along his neck. Well, this was technically cheating, as he was pretty sure that Medic would lose all interest in anything but getting naked as soon as possible if he kept it up. The doctor didn’t have such a good track record of getting angry at things that made sense, and Heavy wasn’t all that curious. He was horny, though, and it took so little, now, to get Medic horny too…   
  
“Zis is ze problem,” he moaned, even as he slid one hand down the neck of Heavy’s T-shirt and the other across his shoulders. “I have reports to write, and data to collate, and I cannot zink properly anymore because my mind is filled viz you and sex.”   
  
That surprised him. Heavy stared at him curiously, but Medic never lied even if he didn’t always grasp what made other people tick. There was nothing but honesty in his face as color spread over his cheeks and he nipped at Heavy’s mouth.   
  
It suddenly struck Heavy that he was probably witnessing the results of a long-repressed sex drive finally kicking into gear. The idea of it made him chuckle. “Is nothing. Normal for man. You will learn to ignore, if need to.”   
  
He stroked Medic’s back and ass, and buried his face in the crook of his neck, feeling the groan bubbling out of his throat more than hearing it. He was so eager, so hungry, so deliciously easy to arouse.   
  
“Mmm… but I have all ze data I need, and as a scientist I should not remain emotionally attached to an experiment vunce it has come to its natural conclusion _oh gott_  do zat again…” Medic writhed against him as Heavy sucked at his earlobe, who then stopped out of puzzlement.   
  
“…this is still experiment to you?” Heavy asked, feeling mildly offended at first. But it was far too much to ask that Medic somehow stop being himself just because he had discovered the joy of sex. At any rate, he was certainly having some problems with ‘emotional attachment’, if the erection digging into Heavy’s leg was any indication.   
  
Medic stared up at him, brow furrowing in confusion. His fingers traced along Heavy’s throat and down his chest, as if he could find an answer there to the questions he couldn’t quite say aloud. “It should be. But I do not – it – I keep zinking, and I cannot – it makes no sense, it is just a biological imperative!” he said desperately. “I do not want to stop, even if it serves no purpose anymore, but I cannot vork like zis.”   
  
Heavy wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t be that cruel. Still, it was pretty ironic; the single-minded scientist, striving to understand everything, brought low by his inability to understand his own desires. He hummed to himself, thinking over what to do for a moment, then gently lead Medic over to his bed.   
  
He sat down, and gathered Medic into his lap. “Doctor, is just being a man. When you are tired, you sleep. When you are hungry, you eat. When you desire… you make love,” he said softly, leaning in to kiss his neck again. “Is not good to ignore all the time. But is okay, da? Because I am here.”   
  
Heavy tugged at his tie, and began unbuttoning his shirt. Medic whined, and started to help him; he only managed a button or two before losing patience and just pulling it over his head, then he pressed himself into Heavy and kissed him with faint, needy sounds and hands that couldn’t seem to get their pants open fast enough.   
  
Those sounds were the best part of it all. Heavy had had other lovers that liked to talk dirty during sex, but Medic had a way of making a whole host of vocalizations that said a lot more than words. The way he moaned in the back of his throat when Heavy pulled off his underwear. The sharp gasp when he pushed him down onto the bed and nudged his knees apart. The quiet, satisfied sigh when Heavy grabbed the lube and slipped his fingers down between his buttocks. And nothing could really compare to the delirious cry of pleasure, every time Heavy moved inside him.   
  
He kept it deep and slow, this time. Draw it out, let them both enjoy it as long and as much as possible, and maybe Medic would be able to think straight again when they were done. Heavy could hold on, up to a point, but not even his stamina was infinite; it was too hot, too intense, too frighteningly good to keep himself in check for more than a few minutes, or so it seemed. Then all he could do was pound him senseless with the blood roaring in his ears, the smell of sweat and sex in every heaving breath, and Medic’s fingers digging into his back.   
  
They both came hard. Heavy fell back to earth trembling and blissful, then settled beside Medic in the damp sheets. The doctor made that crooning noise again, this time with a vague, sated, lazy overtone, and leaned in to brush their lips together and trail his fingers unsteadily down Heavy’s chest. Heavy kissed all over his face, rubbed his stomach, and shared the after-glow while their bodies cooled together.   
  
He enjoyed this almost as much as the act itself. There were no emotional entanglements, no obligations, no need to impress or to appease. Medic may have been crazy but he was the perfect partner, asking for nothing more than to be very well fucked and having no illusions as to the seriousness of the relationship, if it could be called that. It was the easy pleasure of the purely physical, all affection and love coming from nothing more than the human need to touch and be touched.   
  
“I never had zis problem viz my ex-vife, you know,” Medic said eventually. “Ve had a schedule, vunce every four veeks, and zhat vas more zhan enough until I needed all my spare time for vork. I did not really miss it – it vas somevhat enjoyable, of course, but my vork was so much more interesting.”   
  
And now he was back to being the slightly unhinged scientist. Heavy propped himself up on one elbow to look at him, cheek resting on his knuckles. “Is not like that now, da?”   
  
“No.” Medic folded his arm under his head, and his expression turned thoughtful. “My research suggests zhat masturbation vould be an acceptable substitute, but I have tested it and it has no effect. Of course, zhat does not explain vhy I vould suffer from zis now – oh, and I do have a zheory as to vhy ze levels of pleasure are so different, vhich may be borne out by ze data I have collected -”   
  
Heavy stopped him with a finger on his lips. “For smart man, you pretty dumb sometimes,” he said fondly. “I think you just like men.”   
  
Medic pulled his hand away. “Are you suggesting zhat I am a homosexual?” he said somewhat indignantly.   
  
“…You  _are_  having sex with man every night.”   
  
“Zhat means nozzing, it is in ze pursuit of science.” Medic sat up and kicked the sheets off. “I vould have to be attracted to men as vell.”   
  
Heavy had to laugh then, earning himself an irritated sidelong glance. The doctor really didn’t like being laughed at. He sat up as well, and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “What else you call thinking about me and sex, hmm?”   
  
Medic stared at him, his brow furrowed in confusion. He held up one finger to make a point but stopped, suddenly deep in thought. Heavy waited patiently. This could hardly be an easy or swift realization, even for someone who thought as fast as he did. Medic’s face slowly turned from introspection to astonishment, and he looked at Heavy with wide eyes.   
  
“Mein gott,” he said softly.   
  
Heavy smiled at that. He put an arm around his shoulders and lifted his chin up for a kiss. “Is big deal?” he asked.   
  
“I just never considered…”   
  
“Is fine, Doctor. Anyway, is no problem. You thinking clear now, da? Like I say, is just being a man. All men have need, just yours is little different.”   
  
Medic pondered this for a moment. “Vhat about you, zhen?”   
  
Heavy shrugged. “Most men must have woman, when they have need. I will take man or woman, because is no difference to me. And you must have man. Is not rocket science.”   
  
“No, of course not – it is biology or psychology at ze very least. Interesting… I vill have to construct more tests to confirm zis hypothesis.”   
  
Heavy gave up. It took a very singular man to treat his own sexuality as another science project. Possibly the doctor didn’t know any other way to parse this kind of knowledge. He watched Medic get up and retrieve his glasses from where they were tangled up in his shirt, which was subsequently used to clean them both up.   
  
“What kind of test?” he asked curiously, as Medic rummaged around on his desk.   
  
“Oh, just some simple analyses at first. Nozzing too complicated.” He found his clipboard and a pen, and – surprisingly – returned to the bed instead of sitting down to work. Medic leaned back against him and began to scribble in German. “First, I must examine vhezzer I am attracted to ozzer men. Ve shall accomplish zis by measuring my physiological response in ze presence of ze proper stimuli.”   
  
Heavy wrapped his arms around him, and looked over his shoulder. “'What do you mean, 'we’?”   
  
“You vill help me, of course. I can provide full instructions, do not vorry.” Medic tapped the pen on his chin in thought. “Hm. Ze stimuli may be a problem if ve cannot find ze appropriate pornographic material around ze base. Ve may have to produce our own – but, obviously, you are ze control and you cannot be in it. However, I believe Sniper has made some arrangement viz anozzer on ze team in zis respect…”   
  
“You mean… you want to take dirty pictures of Sniper?” Heavy asked incredulously.   
  
“A video recording vould be better, but photographs vill do,” Medic replied, and started making a list of some kind. “Ze important part is zhat it is consistent, reusable, and produces some kind of response in you, as your attraction to men has already been confirmed.”   
  
Heavy sighed and went back to cuddling him, leaving Medic to chatter on about experiment variables. It was beyond ridiculous, but… well, honestly, if any other lover had suggested something like this, he would probably have agreed just because it was pretty kinky. He silently promised himself that he would not be the one to broach the subject with Sniper, though.   
  
He hummed to himself, and smiled. If nothing else, at least Medic was never boring.


	3. Practical

It took a week for Medic to cobble together some kind of camera and work out where Sniper and his unknown lover liked to meet. Heavy left the details to him, not wanting to know how he got his information. He still came to Medic’s room, every night, and the sex was still very satisfying – if less manic than it had been at first.   
  
One night, there hadn’t even been any sex. That had been a long, exhausting day; battles that seemed to go on forever, with no proper resolution. Heavy had barely had enough enthusiasm to go to the doctor at all, but he then found Medic slumped and snoring at his desk, his face stuck to a report on the biochemistry of pheromones. He carried him to bed, stripped off both their clothes, and did little more than kiss and touch until they fell asleep. Medic was surprisingly normal, when he was sleepy; no more odd science talk or strange theorizing, only short, mumbled, lazy answers, and a deep fascination with drawing random shapes on Heavy’s chest with his fingers.   
  
At the weekend, when most of the team had taken a day trip to the nearest town, Heavy retired to the armory to clean Sascha. He had neglected her a little recently – not much, but she deserved a bit more attention. He was in the process of shining her long barrels when the door burst open and Medic appeared.   
  
“Ah! Heavy, you must come quickly! Now is ze perfect time! I believe Sniper vill be meeting his sexual partner today!” The doctor grabbed at his arm, trying to pull him along. “Come, macht schnell, you must help me!”   
  
“Wait, how do you know is today?” he asked, letting himself be detatched from his beloved minigun and dragged out of the room. He silently promised that he’d make it up to her later as the door swung shut behind him.   
  
Medic guided him down the corridor, through a set of double doors and into a part of the base that was largely off limits. Most of the doors were locked, and contained things like the Respawn machinery or whatever powered the control systems for the battlegrounds. They walked swiftly past them all, to the old supply rooms where second-hand sentries and broken weapons were dumped.   
  
Medic stopped at one door. It should have been locked, but the handle turned easily enough. He pushed it open, and Heavy looked in to see a room that may have been used for storing old boxes once – but now, clearly, someone had repurposed it.   
  
The boxes were stacked tidily against the wall. An odd kind of hammock hung from the ceiling, and an open box was waiting behind it with… intimate objects neatly placed inside. He followed Medic in as the doctor fussed around with the camera, and tried to puzzle out what some of the various sex toys were. The dildos and anal beads were obvious enough, but the thing that looked like a cauliflower on a stick baffled him completely.   
  
“Zis is perfect, you realize,” Medic said happily. “I zhought it vould be necessary to convince Sniper to provide us viz photographs, but now ve can simply leave ze camera here on a timer!” He had it bundled up in some kind of cloth, and he tucked it up on the highest stack of shelves and carefully aimed the lens at the hammock. “No flash, ze shutter is almost silent, and it vill take a picture every minute vunce it is activated by movement. Please get out of ze vay, now.”   
  
Heavy stepped outside, and watched as Medic quickly activated the camera and shut the door. “Ve must go into ze next room here,” he said, and pushed Heavy along to the next supply room. This one opened much more stiffly, and the small space inside held nothing more than a few old boxes and a layer of dust on the floor. He shut the door behind them and locked it.   
  
“Why do you need me?” Heavy asked curiously.   
  
Medic pulled out a small tape recorder, and pointed up at the ventilation grill up near the ceiling. “I vish to record ze audio, and observe its effect on you. Zis device vill only get a low-quality copy, unfortunately.”   
  
Great, he was here to be a guinea pig again. Still, it was a pretty benign thing to ask. All they had to do was stay quiet and wait to see if Sniper showed up. “When will he come, do you know?” he asked.   
  
“I believe he vill appear inside ze hour, if my information is correct.”   
  
Heavy sighed, and cleared a spot on the floor of dust. He sat down and made himself comfortable. Medic did the same, leaving the recorder on the floor beside him and wriggling in under his arm.   
  
“How did you find out Sniper comes here?”   
  
“I asked Spy, of course. Ze Frenchman knows everyzing zhat goes on in ze base.”   
  
Heavy stiffened. “Does he know we have sex?”   
  
“Yes, and he asked zhat ve stay in your room from now on in exchange for ze location and time of Sniper’s meetings.” Medic shifted a bit, entirely unconcerned, as he tried to get a little more comfortable. “My room is close to his, and he does not like ze noise.”   
  
So much for keeping it a secret. He was sure that Medic’s room was far enough away from any others to muffle what they got up to. He made a mental note to soundproof his room before letting the doctor stay there.   
  
“You know, I have been vondering how two people vould have sex in zhat little hammock,” Medic mused. “I do not believe it could support ze veight, for a start.”   
  
Heavy was tempted to just tell him, but decided against it. “Maybe I show you some time,” he said slyly. “Is possible, trust me. Feels very good too.”   
  
There was a sudden noise of footsteps in the corridor, and Medic quickly pressed a button on the recorder. He quietly got to his feet, put the recorder on the pile of boxes closest to the ventilation grill, then returned to sit beside Heavy with a finger to his lips to stay silent.   
  
The door to the adjacent room opened and closed. The voices were indistinct; Heavy couldn’t make out the words, but he recognized Sniper’s gravelly tone. The other one was higher pitched, and more nasal…   
  
He mouthed the word ‘Scout’ to Medic, who nodded and smiled. So the runner was Sniper’s mystery paramour. He didn’t seem like the type, and it obviously hadn’t been mentioned in their records. Then again, of all of them, he was the youngest and the most hormonally-challenged – if anyone could be brought around, it was Scout.   
  
Swishy fabric sounds. Creaking. More voices, but the tone was a little different; softer, more desperate. Silence for a few minutes, then more creaking which became progressively more rhythmical. The moans started; low grunts that steadily got louder and louder, and it was definitely Sniper who was having such a good time, with the occasional answering curse from Scout.   
  
Heavy had to wonder which one was in the hammock, and which one was doing the fucking. What position were they in… He wanted to try it with Medic, if they could do it without being caught. He’d heard stories about how incredible it felt, if one partner was almost weightless. His pants got a lot tighter at the thought.   
  
Medic suddenly clutched at his arm. He stared at Heavy, his eyes wild, then scrambled on top of him with a kind of crazed urgency. Heavy had to stop himself from asking what was wrong – they had to be quiet, and it was a miracle the doctor hadn’t knocked something over. Then he felt Medic’s racing heart, and the way the color had risen in his cheeks, and it clicked that perhaps he was having a rather different problem. The hypothesis was confirmed when Medic shoved his tongue into his mouth and tried to pull up his T-shirt.   
  
He was surprised at how eagerly he kissed him back and got his hands under his vest, as if being heard by Sniper and Scout didn’t matter. The sensation of bare skin under his fingers, the weight of the doctor’s body rocking against him… no, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He wanted to be naked, wrapped up with his Medic in bed, where he could touch and kiss and get all those wonderful vocalizations from the doctor that set his blood on fire.   
  
It occurred to him that Medic was going to have a tough time observing his reaction to the sounds of sex coming from the next room if they were having sex here. Heavy told himself as well that they couldn’t really have sex on the dusty floor, even if they could stay absolutely silent. Medic seemed to get the part about being discreet at least. He was being surprisingly quiet, for once, as Heavy squeezed his ass, but the lips and tongue on his neck were too much and he whined very softly.   
  
Heavy stopped, reluctantly, and whispered in his ear. “They will hear us.” He held Medic tightly, feeling his hips twitching in response to the now quite loud moans and curses in both Aussie and Bostonian slang. Their erections throbbed together, the heat pulsing through their pants. The doctor didn’t try to push it any further, but his heavy breathing said everything that needed to be said.   
  
“Filthy – fucking –  _faggot!_ ” The event seemed to reach its crescendo as Scout shouted the words, punctuated by Sniper moaning then crying out, “Ahh Gawd!” The creaking got much louder, then abruptly stopped.   
  
Silence descended. They waited, and listened, as the minutes stretched out. No voices, but another loud creak, the thump of feet hitting the floor, and a rather more painful groan. Scout said something indistinct, the door opened again, and the sound of quick, hurried footsteps faded down the corridor.   
  
Medic’s grip around his neck tightened. They heard Sniper moving things around, probably cleaning up. Less than ten minutes later, by Heavy’s reckoning, the door opened and closed again, and the Australian’s receding footsteps followed.   
  
He relaxed, but they still didn’t move. His arms refused to let go, and the slow burn in his groin cried out for relief. “We go to my room?” he whispered in Medic’s ear.   
  
The doctor swallowed. “I… I need to get ze camera. And develop ze photos. It vill take an hour or more.” It seemed as if he were going to say something more but he pulled away, with some difficulty, and climbed off Heavy. They both stood, and he stopped the tape recorder and put it in his coat.   
  
Medic didn’t seem to want to look at him as he checked the room and retrieved the camera. Heavy noted that everything looked like it was back in place. He eyed the hammock for a moment, lost in the thought of having Medic in it, before the object of his daydream pulled him from the room.   
  
“I must develop zhese,” he said thickly, almost to himself as much as to Heavy. “I vill meet you in your room soon.”   
  
“We will continue there?” he asked.   
  
Medic grabbed his shirt, his fist balling up in the fabric, and looked Heavy in the eye. He was a difficult man to read sometimes. “Yes,” he said softly, even as the slight shake in his hand betrayed the fact that something wasn’t quite right. “Go, I vill be zere as soon as I can.” 

* * *

  
  
Heavy paced around his room restlessly. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t even jerk off. Half a dozen times, he had gone to the door with the intention of going to find the doctor and screwing him on the nearest available surface, only to stop and go back to pacing. What was wrong with him? The sex was just a perk, he didn’t need it – except he did, so very much. Hearing Sniper and Scout together had gotten into his head.    
  
He was almost counting the minutes at this point. It had been an hour. The slow burn in his guts hadn’t gone away. All he could do was move around and fume, and think about what he would do when the doctor finally showed up.    
  
He nearly jumped out of his skin when Medic shoved the door open without even knocking, slammed it closed behind him, and leaned against it, breathing hard. He was clutching a sheaf of photo prints.    
  
They looked at one another for a moment. Heavy didn’t know what to say. 'Get in my bed now’ didn’t seem like enough of an explanation, and he didn’t know what was going on inside the doctor’s head. There was still the matter of his experiment, such as it was, although he didn’t have the clipboard.    
  
“You have photos, yes?” he asked carefully. “How do you want to, eh, measure reactions?” Best to get it over with quickly.    
  
Medic glanced down at the photos and then back at him. He looked lost, as if he were trying to make sense of what Heavy had just said and couldn’t quite understand. His breath didn’t slow, or get any less labored. Again to the photos, and back to Heavy, his brow furrowed in confusion.    
  
“Medic?” Heavy asked. He stepped forward, ignoring the urges that almost demanded he take the man to bed right this minute. He held out his hand to him. “Are you alright?”    
  
Medic whimpered, and dropped the photos on the floor. He launched himself away from the door and into Heavy’s arms, and kissed him with crazed intensity. The burn was immediately eased by the feeling of his body, even with several layers of clothing around it.    
  
Heavy stopped thinking. Instinct and carnal desire took over, and in a heartbeat he had pulled Medic down onto the bed and started dragging his clothes off. His T-shirt tore, all the buttons on Medic’s coat went flying, and his bare skin was met with the doctor’s mouth.    
  
Heavy groaned, in spite of himself. He flipped Medic onto his back and opened his fly; pants, underwear, boots and socks were peeled off all at once. He shoved Medic’s legs apart rather roughly, struggling to undo his own belt with one hand, and left a swift kiss on his stomach before sucking him hard and fast.    
  
Medic bucked under him, making a low, pained noise as he flailed around for something to hold onto. Heavy got his pants down as far as his knees and that would have to be enough. They needed – he couldn’t take him without preparation – needed something to make it easy…    
  
He gave one last lick and then pressed their erections together. Medic’s shirt still hung off his arms; it was too much effort to take it off. Heavy scrabbled at his bedside locker, opening the drawer by feel alone and fishing around inside for some spare lube. Most of his attention was on the sweet noises bubbling out of his doctor, the feeling of his legs hooked around Heavy’s waist, and the way his hands pulled their mouths together.    
  
Lube, yes… he found the small tube and wasted no time getting it open. He had to force himself to start with one finger, to do it properly. Medic arched his back and almost stopped breathing, his legs shaking while Heavy began to work him open. He looked so damn  _beautiful_  like this, laid bare in every way.    
  
“Quickly,” he gasped, trying to get some air back into his lungs. “Ahhh….  _please!_ ”    
  
The desperate tone in his voice could have done him in right then and there. Heavy held himself still for a moment to regain some kind of control, chest heaving with the effort, then slathered himself messily and pressed into Medic’s ass.    
  
The doctor shouted his name. It was more than good, more than satisfying; it was heaven, in a way that it had never been before. The bed rattled and thumped against the wall, and he didn’t care. They were both being loud enough to advertise what they were doing to the whole base, and he didn’t care. Nothing mattered except that Medic was wrapped around him, and he needed that feeling like he needed to breathe.    
  
…He needed him.    
  
The rush flooded his body and made him scream. He had no restraint left, in that moment. Heavy clung to Medic like he was a lifeline, riding out the wave of ecstacy and just barely aware of the doctor erupting beneath him. His whole body contracted and shook with the force of it, leaving him dazed and almost insensible. As his vision cleared, he became aware of Medic’s trembling hand on his cheek.    
  
They stared at one another, somewhat out of shock, and Heavy started to think that maybe, just maybe, there was more to this than convenient sex. He kissed him once, gently, and it was still sweet. His fingers against his skin felt good. It felt better than it should be.    
  
Medic got his breath back. “Zere… zere is somezing wrong viz me,” he whispered. “I could not – ze experiment, I should have done it properly.” He started stroking Heavy’s cheek unconsciously, his face a mask of confusion. “I saw ze photos and… I should have showed zhem to you and recorded heart rate and blood pressure and – and I could not. I vanted you. I only vanted you.”    
  
Heavy lifted himself off him, his muscles feeling like water. He didn’t know what to say. Mechanically, he pulled off his pants and boots and chucked them out of the bed, and used his underwear to clean up. Then he lifted the doctor bodily and slipped his shirt off, and tossed that as well.    
  
Medic climbed into his lap rather than lie back down again. That was his favorite way to sit. Heavy held him tightly and nuzzled his neck.    
  
“Heavy?” he said.    
  
“Da?” His stomach suddenly clenched. He feared what was coming next.    
  
“I zhink I have developed an emotional attachment to you.”    
  
Medic sounded so apologetic that Heavy had to stop himself from laughing. He just looked at him, as the tension eased, and the doctor took this the wrong way.    
  
“I am really very sorry,” he said sadly. “Zis should never have happened and I know it is a grave offence against ze scientific mezzod, and I am sure I vill have to review all my results in light of mmmph-”    
  
Heavy didn’t bother to let him finish. Medic  _liked_  him. The thought gave him a sharp feeling of joy, of the world suddenly becoming a little brighter. He slipped a hand up to hold his head as he kissed him, relished every sensation of Medic melting against him.    
  
“Does not matter,” he said tenderly. “I like you too.”    
  
“But – but it does matter, Heavy, how else can I understand -”    
  
“No. Do not need to understand, Doktor. Not everything is science. And feels good, da?” He stroked his back and ran his hands over his hips, every contour and muscle now familiar to him, and chuckled to himself. “Great writers and poets cannot explain after years of work, and you want to understand in couple of weeks.”    
  
Medic looked so lost and bewildered that Heavy felt bad for laughing again. The doctor really didn’t have any way of grasping this; the only language he knew was that of rationality, and he couldn’t apply it to his own irrational feelings no matter how much he tried.    
  
If Heavy had learned one thing from his Phd in literature, it was that there was no science to romance, no rhyme nor reason to love. There was only what the heart wanted, and it could no more be overruled by the head than the sun could be commanded to rise in the west. Heavy lifted his chin and kissed him again, gently and reassuringly. “Doktor, to want a man, and for that man to want you as well… is no need for explanation. Just is. People, eh…” He paused, almost unable to believe he was saying this. “People fall in love every day, no need to ask why. Is nothing wrong with you. You are just… human.”    
  
“It makes zings complicated,” Medic said.    
  
“ _Golubushka_ … is that bad?” Heavy pointed at the photos. “Sniper has only sex, I think. Is that better than this?”    
  
Medic glanced at them, and rose for a moment to collect a few from the floor. He returned to Heavy’s lap and showed them to him. The camera was at a strange angle, but the picture was clear enough: Sniper was naked, on his back in the hammock with his ankles tied up above his head with ribbons, while Scout gripped his hips and fucked him. He was certainly having the time of his life, if his expression was anything to go by. Scout’s face, unfortunately, was turned away.    
  
“I only developed half of zhem,” Medic mused. “I could not do any more. I feel nozzing for zhem, but seeing zis made me desire you.” He leaned against Heavy’s chest, flicking through the photos pensively. “Only you… it vas ze same vhen I heard zhem.”    
  
Heavy picked out one photo and studied it. “Now you know how the hammock works, maybe you want to try?”    
  
Medic stared at the one in his hand, then up at his face, then back to the photos scattered on the floor. He pulled Heavy’s head down for a brief but forceful kiss in response, and it seemed to surprise him more than Heavy. He cast about for a moment, trying to work out some thought, then said, “I – I need you. I do not know if it is better, but… I know zis much.”    
  
Heavy smiled and hugged him. “Maybe that, we find out together.”


End file.
